


My End and My Beginning

by kiwikero



Series: All of Me [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Memories, Weddings, angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikero/pseuds/kiwikero
Summary: Louis Tomlinson has been running late his entire life; his wedding day is no exception.





	My End and My Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> When I got this prompt, the first thing I thought of was BSH Louis and his habit of running late. Of course he'd be late for his own wedding! My prompt this week was #246: The panicky fear of arriving late. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this visit to the BSH universe as much as I did. That fic will always be special to me and getting to see that version of the boys again was a real treat for me.
> 
> Thank you Sarah for being my amazing beta and KK for the britpick!

Ever since Louis came sweeping into Harry’s life by way of his Sociology of Gender class, running late for the panel Louis was meant to be leading, it has been a joke between the two of them that Louis would manage to be late for his own wedding. It isn’t quite so funny today, mere hours from the eagerly-awaited ceremony.

30 minutes ago, Louis woke up to his alarm, Harry’s side of the bed empty except for the black and white cat curled on his pillow. Missy had achieved consciousness just long enough to glare at him for disturbing her and then fell right back asleep.

Other than that, the morning started off fine; Louis woke up with plenty of time to spare, took a nice, hot shower, and neatened up his stubble. He didn’t have to decide what to wear, and transportation was taken care of. All he really had to do was get himself presentable and downstairs in time to catch his ride.

Now, though, the limo is due to arrive any moment to pick him up, and Louis can’t find his other shoe to save his life. Or, you know, his wedding ceremony.

“I don’t understand where it is!” Louis wails into his phone, digging through the laundry basket one more time just in case. “I had everything together last night; how could  _ one shoe _ wander off?”

There is a slow, patient sigh from the other end of the line. “Louis, it can’t have gone far,” Zayn repeats for the fourth time. “Calm down and think about where the last place you saw it was.”

“Right next to the other bloody shoe!” Louis snaps. He’s aware Zayn is just trying to help, but dammit, he knows where he left it. The problem is that it’s not there. He sighs, almost sinking down to sit on the bed but stopping himself at the last minute to avoid getting more cat hair on his tux. “Harry would be able to find it,” Louis murmured sadly.

“You’re the one who insisted Harry get ready somewhere else,” Zayn reminds him helpfully. “Honestly, Lou, this is the one thing you’re traditional about?”

“I insisted because it’s what Harry wanted, but he was too embarrassed to ask for it,” Louis replies. It’s true; they paid little attention to tradition whilst planning their wedding, instead picking and choosing the things they wanted to do. Harry, though, had really preferred not to see Louis before the wedding.

_ “Why?” Louis asked. “You know what I look like and we picked out our tuxes together. I mean, I might surprise you with one of the three ways I know how to style my hair…” _

_ Harry crossed his arms, looking away with flaming cheeks. “It’s fine. Not that important,” he said sheepishly, and Louis could tell by the tone of his voice that it was indeed that important. _

_ “Baby,” Louis said, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders, “If it’s something you want to do, then it’s important to me.” _

So Niall had picked Harry up for lunch yesterday afternoon, and the two of them got a hotel room for the night. The next time Louis sees him, it will be the beginning of their wedding.

A fresh wave of frustration hits. Harry is waiting for him, and today of all days Louis does not want to be late. Harry might already be waiting at the church, watching out windows and—oh. “What if he thinks I’m doing a runner?”

“Louis,” Zayn says flatly, “Harry will know you are not leaving him at the altar. Calm down, find your damn shoe, and I’ll see you at the church.” He makes a kissing noise into the phone, and then ends the call.

Louis pockets his mobile and takes a deep, calming breath. If Harry were here, he’d make Louis do some kind of guided breathing before having him talk Harry through his every move up until losing the shoe. Louis doesn’t actually remember the proper method of breathing, but he improvises and thinks he’s done well enough at it to start picturing his every move the night before.

He’d spent most of it getting everything ready, from making sure his tux was pristine to putting Harry’s wedding band in the trouser pocket in advance, to shining his shoes within an inch of their life. Wait.

“The sink!” Louis shouts triumphantly, scaring Missy so badly that she abandons Harry’s pillow for a safer place to rest.

The offending shoe is right where Louis left it, sat on the counter to dry after being freshly polished. Louis clucks his tongue at it in admonishment before collecting it to return to its mate. “One crisis averted,” he mutters, shoving his feet into the reunited pair of oxfords. He’s completely ready—one last check of his quiff in the mirror and pat of his trouser pocket confirms it—and now all he has to do is get into the limousine and go marry his boy.

Louis heads downstairs to watch for his ride out of the lounge window. It looks like a gorgeous day outside, the sky bright and cloudless and the new leaves on the trees vividly green in the sunlight. They flutter in a mild breeze that makes the buds on their branches look almost shy. It’s a perfect day to get married.

The limo pulls up the driveway right on time, and after one last inventory of all the important bits, Louis locks up the house and bounds out to meet it. It had been Zayn’s idea, the limousine—Harry and Louis had protested the expense, but Zayn insisted that it would be his wedding gift. Besides, neither of them wanted to be worrying about travel in the hours leading up to their wedding.

Zayn was right, of course; it’s a relief to settle back into the seat and just watch lazily out the window as their house gets farther and farther away. All he can think is that the next time he sees it, he’ll be a married man.

Louis still remembers the day they toured the house. They’d wanted to move for a while, their flat just too small for two men and a cat and the five years worth of things they’d accumulated during their relationship, but the timing never seemed right. There was always a new expense or a month they were spread a little too thin that would send Louis fleeing in terror at the thought of having a mortgage on top of that.

Then Harry had gotten a great job, and their bills were a little less overwhelming each month, and they had allowed themselves to start looking. One day, Louis had texted Harry a listing only to have the same listing waiting for him in an email from his fiancé. They arranged a showing, and put in an offer that same day.

It’s perfect for them, really: close enough for both of them to get to work, but far enough from the busiest part of town to have a nice garden and a bit of space from the neighbours. It needed some updating, but they’ve been in it for almost a year now and it already feels like home.

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes, sir,” the limo driver calls back, bringing Louis’ mind away from kissing Harry in the house they bought together and back to the vehicle taking him closer and closer to forever. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Louis answers, trying to keep his breathing steady and even. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes until he’s stood in front of a church filled with his family and friends and the man he loves with all his heart. Louis is nervous, sure, but not about marrying Harry. He’s never doubted them, not for a second.

He’s concentrating so hard on his breathing, imagining Harry counting out loud for him to inhale and exhale, that it takes him a moment to realise the limo is stopped. “Why aren’t we moving?” Louis calls out, hating the anxious tremor in his voice.

“Traffic jam,” the driver calls back, his brown eyes apologetic in the rearview mirror. “Looks like there’s an accident ahead. I’ll get us around it as soon as possible, sir.”

Louis sinks back in the seat, mouth agape and an icy prickle of dread settling over him. It seems as if he’s destined to be late one way or another, and he can only hope Harry will forgive him for the delay. “That’s fine,” he manages to croak to the driver. “Just drive safely.” Louis doesn’t want to be late, but not getting there at all would be far worse.

The minutes tick by, tortuously slow, like drips from a leaky tap collecting in a sink, and then twenty minutes have gone by and they’re no closer to the church. It’s gone 2 PM, and Louis is supposed to get married at 3 o’clock on the dot.

At half two, Louis’ mobile starts ringing, interrupting the frantic texts he and Zayn have been sending back and forth. Louis flinches when Harry’s contact photo fills the screen.

“Hey, babe,” Louis says when he answers the call.

“Louis?” Harry’s voice sounds quiet and echoey, like he’s snuck off to a toilet to make the call. “Zayn said you’re stuck in traffic.”

Harry sounds so worried, and it makes Louis’ heart clench. “Yeah, haven’t moved for awhile now. There’s been an accident.”

“But you’re okay, right?” Harry demands frantically. “They said you were, but I was worried they just didn’t want to upset me. I had to hear your voice.”

“I’m fine, love,” Louis promises, face settling into the warm, easy smile that Harry never fails to bring to the surface. “Just stuck in traffic while they clear the road. I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him. “I’ll be waiting here for you as long as it takes. I hope everyone involved is okay.”

And how like Harry is that, that when his own wedding day is at risk of being ruined, he’s more concerned about other people?

“The driver said it was a minor collision,” Louis replies. “They just had to tow one of the cars. No injuries.” He chuckles at Harry’s sigh of relief. “Don’t worry about anything but getting ready, okay, baby? I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither,” Harry admits. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m too used to sleeping next to you.”

Louis laughs at that. “I’d like to remind you that it was your idea to not see each other before the wedding!”

“I know!” Harry wails. “But you and I both know I make questionable decisions!”

“Hey,” Louis retorts. “You said yes to me. That was an excellent decision.”

“Best I’ve ever made,” Harry says softly, and Louis can picture the exact smile on Harry’s face.

It seems like so long ago, their proposal, even though it’s only been a couple of years. Louis can still picture it so clearly, the way his heart hammered while he waited for Harry to finish speaking, the adrenaline that shot through his body in electric streaks when he raised his hand and Harry called on him. The class had gone silent and still, watching curiously as Louis stood up and began speaking.

_ “Harry,” Louis said, ignoring every pair of eyes in the room aside from the familiar green ones currently fixed on him, wide and confused. “I have watched you go from a quiet, insecure first year to the confident man in front of me. Every time you tell your story, I am more and more honoured that I get to be a part of it, that I helped you get to where you are now. But more than that, you’ve helped me more than I will ever be able to say. You have taught me so much about love, and forgiveness, and bravery, and even at our worst there is no one I have ever loved more than you.” Louis moved to the aisle then, slowly making his way down to where the panelists sat at the front of the lecture hall. “Harry, together we have gotten through anything life has thrown at us. I promised once that I would be there for you when you needed me, and I want to keep being there for the rest of my life.” Louis stopped just in front of Harry’s stool, dropping to one knee and pulling out the ring that had been burning a hole in his trouser pocket. “So my question, Harry Styles, is will you marry me?” _

“Do you remember the day I proposed?” Louis asks softly, a completely different ring in the pocket of his trousers now. He reaches for it, finding solace in the smooth metal, warm from his body heat.

“’Course I remember,” Harry replies. “Best day of my life, Lou.”

“So far,” Louis corrects him. “Plenty more best days to be had.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Starting with today. I can’t wait for you to get here.”

“Soon, babe. Soon as I can,” Louis promises, and ends the call with a kiss. Right on cue, the limo starts creeping forward.

“We’re back in business,” the driver says. “We’ll be there before you know it.”

Louis sends out a group text to let everyone in the wedding party know he’s on his way. He’s on his way to marry the love of his life, for real this time, and there’s nothing to do now but sit back and enjoy the ride.

When they pull up to the church, the limo has barely come to a stop before Louis launches out of it. The car park is full, no people milling about outside. It’s ten past three, and Louis knows they’re all waiting on him to begin.

He makes a beeline for the room they had set up as a dressing area for Harry and the rest of the groomsmen. It’s far from empty, filled with clothing and shoeboxes and garment bags, but there are no people in it. Most importantly, there’s no Harry. He wants so desperately to see Harry one last time before the ceremony, to hug him and kiss him privately once more before they begin the next chapter of their story. But Harry is nowhere to be found. “Where is he?” Louis moans frantically. Maybe Harry had lied on the phone; maybe he’d grown tired of waiting after all. Or, perhaps, Harry was the one who’d done a runner.

He searches every room and toilet, but there isn’t a soul in sight. The guest book is filled with names, the gift table piled high, but the people manning them have abandoned their posts. The only place Louis hasn’t searched is the sanctuary, and he reckons it’s time.

He can hear the low sound of music behind the closed sanctuary doors. He strains his ears to listen; it’s a song from the wedding playlist they had made together. Louis rests his head against the door, smiling as he listens to the muffled words.

_ Give your all to me _

_ I’ll give my all to you _

_ You’re my end and my beginning _

_ Even when I lose I’m winning _

_ ‘Cause I give you all of me _

_ And you give me all of you _

Louis takes a deep breath; it’s time. He stands up straight and adjusts his suit one final time before opening the heavy wooden door in front of him.

It takes a second for Louis’ eyes to adjust to the scene in front of him. Light spills into the sanctuary from a row of tall windows, bathing the packed pews in light. There are sunflower petals dotting the aisle, and more hanging in jars from the corners of the pews. At the front of the church is a line of the most important people in Louis’ life; Zayn and Liam are on his side, Skye and Niall on the other. And there, right in the middle of them, is Harry.

Harry is smiling, tears already spilling over his stretched cheeks.  _ ‘Hi,’ _ he mouths, then tucks his trembling lower lip between his teeth.

_ ‘Hey, baby,’  _ Louis mouths back. He doesn’t care what song is playing now, doesn’t even notice who is sitting in the pews as he marches down the aisle. He’s finished with delays. It’s his wedding day, and the man he is going to spend the rest of his life with has been waiting long enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Come say hello on [ tumblr](http://icanhazzalou.tumblr.com)! There is a rebloggable fic post [here](http://icanhazzalou.tumblr.com/post/159976498925/title-my-end-and-my-beginning-author).


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